


Stable Gifts

by Rose Golden (geekitout)



Series: Boreo Out of Context [1]
Category: The Goldfinch (2019), The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt
Genre: Cute, Fluff, I just wanted to write cute fluff ok, M/M, Wholesome, dont let the mentions of women fool you, not sure the characters are super accurate but, please excuse the lazy writing, these bitches gay good for them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:08:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21746512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekitout/pseuds/Rose%20Golden
Summary: Boris surprises Theo with a gift.Just holiday fluff!
Relationships: Theodore Decker/Boris Pavlikovsky
Series: Boreo Out of Context [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1576954
Comments: 6
Kudos: 72





	Stable Gifts

“Come, let’s go for a drive!” Boris exclaimed suddenly. I looked at him suspiciously and paused what I was doing.

“Where to?”

“Places,” Boris responded absently as he tapped away at his phone. He looked up and sighed when he saw my face. “Just let me surprise you this year, yes? Give me this one day, at least? I have something very nice planned for you.”

“Boris, if it involves women, I’m not—“

“Am not taking you to Red Light, relax,” he said quickly. I detected a hint of anger in his voice and knew immediately that I had offended him. “Trust me, I think you really will like this. Is not like anything you will expect. Nothing crazy, I promise! Just trust me.”

The weather wasn’t ideal to go anywhere – a wet cold that chilled to the bone – but Boris seemed a little on edge so I kept my complaints to myself. I grabbed a coat and scarf and dutifully made my way to Gyuri’s car, still not convinced that this day wouldn’t end with me hugging a toilet or waking up in a bed full of women I didn’t know. Thirty minutes into the drive, I started to get nervous. We were leaving the city and headed towards the countryside.

“Boris, where are we going? I thought we were going into town.”

“I said nothing about town.” After a small pause, he added in a gentler tone, “City seems to be suffocating you a bit lately. I thought we could go somewhere quieter.” I nodded silently and turned to gaze back out the window. I was nervous, fidgety, and I could tell that my anxiety was putting Boris further on edge. He began to tap his fingers on his knee with an erratic rhythm. In a rare moment, he and Gyuri weren’t even talking. The only noise was the radio softly playing 80s hits and rain pelting the windows. The atmosphere wasn’t tense, just quieter than usual for these two. Finally, after what seemed like several hours – but was really only about an hour and a half outside the city – we approached a row of buildings that I recognized only from photographs of my mother’s and Pippa’s.

“Are those—?”

“Stables!” Boris exclaimed with childlike glee. “I remember you talking about horses before. They are good therapy, very calming. Come,” he said when Gyuri had stopped.

“Whose are they?” I asked.

“They belong to someone I have worked with before. He is a Russian horse trainer, among other things.” The trainer being someone Boris had worked with didn’t put my mind at ease but whatever worries I had seemed to disappear when my eyes landed on the white palomino in the back of one stable. The man I assume was the trainer stepped out to greet us – Vasily? Nice to meet you. May I? – and the closer I got to the horse, the more faded the multilingual conversation behind me became. Far off radio static further drowned out by the rain drumming steadily against the stables. Even the smell – at first, a strong scent of hay and something else I couldn’t identify with confidence, along with moisture from the weather – began to fade.

“Her name is Samogon,” I heard a voice call out.

“Moonshine,” came Boris’s translation. I nodded and repeated the name to myself. I had never felt more at peace than when I looked into Samogon’s eyes. I could hear my mother’s voice in my head as she described the horses form her childhood and I imagined her smiling next to me. I leaned my forehead gently against Samogon and closed my eyes, running my hands along her neck. Behind me, Gyuri and Vasily continued to rattle on in Ukrainian but they might as well have been on another planet for all I knew. In that moment, it was only Samogon and I that existed. Her steady breathing matching my own, the rain’s rhythmic drumbeat, her velvet coat beneath my fingers, my mother’s laugh ringing through my head – all of it put me in a meditative state. My whole body felt like it was humming quietly to the natural songs around me.

“You like her?” Boris asked softly, jolting me out of my trance. When had he appeared behind me?

“She’s beautiful,” I whispered.

“Then she is yours.”

I inhaled sharply, startled, and turned to face him. “Excuse me?”

“She is yours. You are bonding well with her.”

“Boris, you can’t just buy me a horse. I have nowhere to put her!”

“I can and I did. She will stay here. Vasily owes me many favors. I told him I’d pay for the horses and their maintenance, and he agreed to keep them here and let us see them when we want.”

“Horses? Plural?” I repeated. “Please tell me you didn’t buy the whole lot…”

Boris laughed. “Potter, I am no billionaire, I am sorry to say. No. See that one there?” He pointed to the blue roan next to Samogon. “That is mine. Zatmeniye – Eclipse. These two came in together, actually. Rescued at same time. Inseparable ever since so I was really hoping you would take to her so they can stay together.” When I didn’t respond – too stunned to speak – Boris added, “I wanted to use some of the monies from your finch on a nice gift for you. I thought this might be okay?” There was a genuine insecurity to the question that made my chest ache for a fleeting second. I nodded, still unsure how to properly express what I was feeling.

“Yes. Yes, of course it is. Boris, it’s—“ I was having a hard time containing my emotions but when Boris put one hand on my shoulder, I lost my composure. I pulled him in for a hug and couldn’t stop myself from crying. He just held me for a moment before pulling me back enough for a gesture I came to recognize as a signature sign of intimacy between us. He pressed our foreheads together and we stood there for a moment, completely still aside from breathing.

After a moment, I said quietly, “This is the best Christmas I’ve had in years. Thank you.”

“Happy Christmas, Potter.”


End file.
